Lost In A February Song
by Drawn To Those That Never Yawn
Summary: Whenever Blaine dreams, it's always the same. He always floated up, up into the clouds. But this time, he wasn't alone. AU futurefic-ish.  Could be a oneshot or more, depending on the reviews.


**AN:** Based off of Josh Groban's video of "February Song". It's terrific, and I suggest you watch it too.

**Disclaimer: **I – sadly – say that I don't own Glee or February Song.

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><p>Sometimes he would drift off from the corners of his mind and dream.<p>

In his mind's eye he saw clouds, floating downward while he was going upwards. His dreams always started out like this, seeing himself float upwards into the heavens by some invisible force. It's the reason why he hasn't been scared of heights for a long time. It often took him into different places, sometimes it even reached to the outer of the atmosphere.

Usually he heard birds squawking in the distance, or the ocean roaring down below. However, this dream was apparently different. He felt light hands holding his hips and a sound of wings flapping was so loud, as if it was right in his ear. He looked around, but there wasn't anything except the fluff that was the clouds and a random fleck of light bouncing among them.

Soon he arrived in what might be the start of his dream. A rather old shack littered with dozens of windows. The roof was falling off and most of the metal parts were rusted, however, he did see the glint of a piano inside.

The boards creaked when he stepped foot into the porch of the house. The door had smears of dried blood in it, but he still opened it nonetheless.

The inside of the room was different from the outside. Instead of the wood he was expecting, the walls were of brick, though the ceiling were made of wood. There seemed to be a mezzanine, seeing as there were stairs at a corner of the room. The floors were made of cement, and the windows (an estimate of 6 on each wall) had light streaming from them, but it didn't highlight anything on the inside. Many of the details became irrelevant when he saw the constant component of each of his dreams.

The black piano was just begging to be opened, when he saw it. There wasn't any sheet music on it (unlike each of his dreams, which he passed off as the fact that he didn't learn any new songs on the bass that day), though there were some bits of charred paper underneath it, as if someone burnt the sheet music that was to be used.

He shrugged it off, and then sitting on the ever-so comfortable leather seat. It kind of struck him as odd that he could remember textures and such in his dreams, but he took a deep breath and drowned out his thoughts in music.

"_Where has that old friend gone?  
>Lost in a February song,<br>Tell him it won't be long,  
>'Til he opens his eyes,"<em>

"_Where is that simple day?  
>Before colors broke to shades?<br>How did I ever fade,  
>Into this light?<br>Into this light?"_

A flurry of feathers from the mezzanine almost made him forget the next lyrics, when he heard the fast flapping of wings. But that didn't deter him from continuing.

"_And I never wanted to let you down,  
>Forgive me if I,<br>Slip away…_

_Sometimes it's hard to find my ground,_

'_Cause I keep on falling as I try to get away,_

_From this crazy world!"_

The owner of the wings' blue (sometimes grey or green) eyes peeked from one of the wooden columns, watching as the curly-haired man play the piano. How he wished he had gotten the time to play like that.

"_And I never wanted to let you down,  
>Forgive me if I,<br>Slip away…_

_And all that I've got is lost and found,  
>I promise you I,<em>

_I'll come back to you,  
>One day…"<em>

"_Where has that old friend gone?_

_Lost in a February song,_

_Tell him it won't be long,_

'_Til he opens his eyes,_

_Opens his eyes…"_

After the last note, he was startled out of his music-induced stupor by the clapping of hands. He stood up suddenly, looking around for anyone who might have been creating that sound. The winged person's eyes widened, almost immediately disappearing into thin air.

"Hello?" Blaine asked, walking around the large space. "I know you're there," he added, though he doubted that that would help. The angel took a deep breath and just counted his chances before replying.

"I'm no one."

"No one, eh?" Blaine's eyebrow quirked upwards, now deciding on whether or not to climb up the stairs. (Internally, he was freaking out because he would usually wake up when the song was over.)

"Yep," the stranger popped the 'p'. Blaine was now burning with curiosity, as he walked up the stairs quicker than he would have, as the boards kept on groaning at the sudden pressure. He just wished his lucky stars that the floor wouldn't collapse.

It seemed like the stranger was up for a little game of tag, as he saw a feminine figure hiding behind columns, not really making him – or her – self clear to his vision. The game was clearly unfair, as the figure was faster than he was used to, and the light decided to stream itself through the glass at it became blindingly bright.

And then, as if by a stroke of luck, the stranger went past him. Time slowed down, and he could _see_. He inhaled the stranger's scent, a raw yet sweet scent, so unique that he didn't want to forget it when he woke up. However, that wasn't the unique part of whom he was chasing, for he saw _wings_. Not just those fake ones made of cotton and tissue paper, but real ones. And they seemed to be attached to something that wasn't normally outfitted with wings.

"Whoa," he breathed, and automatically, he latched on to the angel's hand. The stranger seemed startled at his sudden action, and then he was dragged off to a corner of the building. The stranger stopped, and then his grip accidentally slackened, now his body was flying into the glass window.

"Blaine, no!" the stranger cried out, but it was too late. Though the impact didn't make him blackout, he was falling off. The angel followed quickly after, flapping his wings in order to catch up to the falling body.

_Kurt Hummel_, thought the stranger said nothing but his name, the two names registered in his mind. _Have we met before…?_

"Blaine!"

"Blaine!"

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><p>"BLAINE!"<p>

"Whoa, what?" he was shocked out of his nap, by none other than a Mr. Wesley Hughes, who was almost going to slap him if he didn't wake up.

"Don't tell me you fell asleep on the job, _again_," Wes said, massaging the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"I didn't," Blaine said sleepily, though it was clear that he was. Wes groaned, then asking his friend to get up. When he didn't, the asian pulled him forcefully by the arm and then pushed him out of his seat.

"Go on, make great music and have million sway in your words," Wes waved him out of the room. "You're amazing," he added after a thought.

"Yeah, yeah," Blaine rubbed his eyes, and then bumped into a water dispenser. He cursed at the inanimate object before going on his way.

"Hm," Was mumbled to himself, going through Blaine's things. Then he spotted something glittering in the fluorescent lighting. He pushed off _The Order of the Phoenix_ and a few folders of song lyrics and other paraphernalia, until he uncovered the item.

"That's interesting," he said, holding up the white feather.


End file.
